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Xi-wang


Seeing the downed columns he had felt a sob almost escape, just managing to keep himself in check, he had to climb all of that? B-but...he wasn't sure he could. But he really needed to escape from here.

That in mind he had made his approach and went to try and climb his way up and over, without help, he didn't think of helping others either. He really needed to get out of here. This place...this was worse than the mirror wraith incident.

Along the way he'd lost the broken piece of wheelchair he'd had, which had served him well, but oh well? The door was so close! He wouldn't need it, right?

Only he did...it might have helped in trying to break the glass as the door was locked. They were locked in and so close! It was right here! Why did the door have to be locked. Biting down on his lip, turning his eyes upwards toward the ceiling he tried to blink away the tears that were forming. Then he heard it a shriek and then laughter...and it wasn't the sort of happy kind of laughter - this was like horror movie laughter. The lights went out then - this wasn't good.

"Did that sound like the nurse...or someone else?"

While he said this he reached for an item he'd had since awakening. He'd learned to keep it on him at all times, just incase. The henshin pen he had was pulled out and words whispered as he powered up. he might not be the sort to fight but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be such an issue right now.

(Word count 27 cool

Matt Duffy is powering up to Lieutenant Chalcopyrite
{Phone and Cord Weapon}

A few rocky slips but Matt and Kyle both made it over the columns, there was some little bit of joy in the older man’s face as he could finally see the exit. Locked, but really that was no surprise considering that the Negaverse seemingly didn’t want them to escape, or at least not escape quickly but there was at least enough junk around they could attempt to ram it open one way or another. Matt had offered to help, considering that his pants were already ruin with blood and his shirt ripped in a few places what more damage could he possibly do. They had lined up ready to rush the door when a shriek startled half of them causing the half broken column to tumble back to the ground. A familiar voice began to laugh before the entire room was plunged back into the eerie darkness causing a massive eye roll from Matt’s expression. Nothing was easy.

At least with the darkness he could transform into his negaverse self, clean suit and all which was some sort of bonus he guessed. It also left him with two useless weapons, the kid fairy wand and the telephone which he wasn’t entirely sure why he was still holding on to it. Still better than nothing he supposed as crammed it into his pocket for safe keeping, never knew what you could run into before and outside the doors considering everything seemed very trap like.

Richard Jones ~ Broken Wheelchair Fragment ~ Transforming into Lt. Huntite

It was a relief to keep his weapon in hand, even if it was just a broken piece of wheelchair it was better then nothing. Richard gave the entrance a skeptical look, not sure if he could trust that they were almost done and sure enough it was locked. "Of course." He said as the lights went out while there was a shriek and the laughter started. He heard the man he had run into ask about who it could be but he honestly didn't know, not having paid enough attention to the nurses voice enough to tell and he reached over to grab for Kit in the last place he had seen him. "Not sure, might want to stick close to the group though, you too Kitkat." Power filled him as he let himself transform into his Lieutenant form.

Slate Blackwell :: Ochre
Telephone weapon

The Lunchables weren't much for the sustenance department, but they left him feeling slightly better in the wake of all that adrenaline. It looked as though they were stuck in the break room for the night; Slate could think of no better place to be if they had to remain locked in a hospital. He took to one of the chairs set before folding tables and pooled his arms on the surface. The day grew long and evening now approached, with no reprieve for the perpetually-exhausted Slate. As soon as the commotion started to die down, he closed his eyes, and slept promptly.

And sleep he did - he roused not once through the night, though he woke up groggier than usual. He wondered, then, if any lieutenants broke in to drain them and leave them prey to the youma. No one else looked hurt, though, and a lot of tired faces looked about the room.

Maybe his exhaustion was just a byproduct of sleeping in a beseiged hospital.

The same voice as before accosted the intercom, and Slate sighed to himself. He needed just a single moment to himself where he could power up without worry and escape the bullshit that was this operation. Still, as the group around him started to shuffle into motion, he knew he wouldn't find such a simple out from the situation. He warned of further youma, likely similar to the killer clown out in the hall, and Slate sighed further. Even if he could power up, youma never took kindly to him. He'd have to dust his way back to the general in charge, provided he could do that without running into the White Moon.

Water trickled onto the table - lightly at first, then increasing in density. Slate frowned as he looked up toward the assembled ceiling tiles, wondering when they might give way to the water overhead. A pipe must've burst. With a sigh, he wrenched himself from the table and started for the door. He doubted the clown youma had enough energy to stick around all night anyway, and if they were quiet, maybe the rest of the youma wouldn't notice them.

Slate wasn't the only one with the idea of opening the door - several followed while others remained behind to lay out bedpans. Maybe they wanted to hole up and wait for a rescue? Safety in numbers was a thing, he supposed. Still, he wanted to get to General Obsidian and put himself on the right side of this operation.

More of the room filled up while some of the stronger members worked on the door, and soon enough, the cored wood gave way along with the quickly-accumulating water. Slate stumbled out alongside them, thoroughly moistened and slightly disturbed. He breathed a sigh as he looked about, surveying the area. Down the hall he noted a red rubber clown nose and cringed to himsef - that killer clown wasn't a youma after all.

He did face youma, however, as Harmony urged them toward another hallway and a pair of demonic dogs stood in their path. The time to choose between his options grew slim - if he wanted to escape, he needed to do it now - so Slate approached the dogs as tentatively as he could, holding a hand out for offering. He could only trust that he had the reflexes to pull back before one of the creatures bit his fingers clean off. But the nurse would know her way around the hospital far better than he, and taking his chances with Killer Clown the Not-Youma sounded worse than losing a hand to shadow mutts. Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Slate pressed on.

But before he reached the dogs, one of the many choosing to charge them instead struck him in the face. Slate reeled back, dazed by the assault, and watched with swimming vision as the rest of the group reduced them to ash. He should've known better, and cursed himself for thinking such a harebrained idea would work. Porsha would've told him otherwise, but Porsha was smart enough to avoid getting caught up in this hospital mess. Finally Slate hauled himself to his feet once more and followed the rest of the group toward Harmony's stairwell.

With a slow sigh, Slate started down the steps in the blackened stairwell as slowly as he could manage. Launching himself down the stairs would only result in disaster, he knew; he wasn't the most careful of people. Much of the group felt the same way to his knowledge, as he heard the whistles of skin on handrails and the careful, distance steps. Slowly, realization dawns on him that his hand slithered around the handrail not due to adrenaline-fueled sweat, but for the acrid scent of blood that clung to it. Great, he thought to himself as he smeared the handful onto his clothing. He reminded himself but once that at least it wasn't blood coming from his nose this time, even though he didn't want to think about where it came from.

But he thought about it anyway, because the general warned that some of them would wind up smeared on the walls. He wondered, then - who was it that got smeared here? Was it another Negaverse officer caught up in this business, like him?

Swallowing, Slate pressed on through the darkness. And once the brunt of them erupted out of the single, windowless door, they found themselves in a main stretch of hallway cluttered with two fallen pillars. No youma lingered about, to which Slate breathed a welcome sigh. He could relax a little, get these pedestrians out of the way, power up, and join whoever's in charge. After scanning those who started making their way over the pillars, Slate chose to step in where needed and help with any particularly difficult footing. He wasn't the only one doing so - a few of the others who thought similarly to him now stepped in to help with some of the injured. In fact, a lot of people went that route with it. Maybe there were still some good hearts in Destiny City.

He'd feel bxx __ he had t# drxxx ___##them.

By the time Slate and the remaining group surmounted the pillars, his head throbbed terribly with a coming migraine. Not now, not now… But reciting such a mantra to himself offered no respite. Soon, however, the building accommodated him by shutting down all source of lights, and while Slate now found himself in pleasant darkness, some of the other group members resorted to getting loud. It wouldn't matter - the sudden cover of darkness left him an impromptu chance to transform, finally, and get back to the proper side of this whole affair.

A whisper in the darkness, his henshin pen clutched tight, and Slate transformed into Ochre with none the wiser. Unfortunately, he now stood amongst a surfeit of Order signatures as they cropped up all around him. This… Isn't gonna go well.

WC: 1188

Giulia Montgomery - No Weapon - Civilian!

Yay! An exit!

..... Boo. The exit wasn't working!

And then a shriek, a cackle, and darkness, and Giulia cried out in fear.

You hear something whiz past your head and as the lights go back on, you see a large purple crystal now jutting out from the wall next to you. Turning around, it's not hard to determine where the ear-piercing scream came from.

Nurse Harmony no longer looks like the friendly face who'd greeted you on the tour the afternoon before. Large, sparkling crystals have pushed their way out of her skin, leaving you shuddering.

"I'm so sorry that we're going to have to part in such horrible ways," The raspy voice coos. You struggle to figure out where the sound is coming from, though, as her mouth is no longer moving. To your horror, you realize that her true mouth is now the large gaping maw coming from her shoulder.

This is definitely not what you signed up for!

"I'll try to make this quick - just stay still, okay?!"

Raising her giant arms up, she rips off various crystal shards from off of her mutated form and begins to fling the massive crystals in the group's direction.

exclaim DISHARMONY IS NOW ATTACKING YOU exclaim

(YOU SHOULD PROBABLY DEFEND YOURSELF IF YOU WANT TO MAKE IT OUT IN ONE PIECE; THIS INCLUDES ANY NEGAVERSE AGENTS... SHE DOESN'T APPEAR TO BE MAKING ANY EXCEPTIONS)

Randomize a number from 1-10 to determine your damage on the youma! Feel free to use any magical attacks you may have!

If you're second level, add +2 to your attack!
If you're third level, add +4 to your attack!
If you're a civilian or cat... GOOD LUCK???

Cerissé Belcourt - Tantalite (Outfit)

Tantalite easily summoned the familiar bow into a hand, swishing it around in the air once before a crystal went zipping past her. She side stepped, frowning as it cut through her uniform and left a slice across her flesh. Hopefully this stuff wasn't infectious. Taking a moment to check on the wound, she frowned, and then turned to look at the face of the nurse.

She looked like she'd seen better days, for sure.

Or perhaps she'd always been a little funny on the inside. It actually really pissed her off, and Tantalite carefully stepped in to jab the flat end of the bow into the Youma.

The jerk.

YOUMA HP: 95

Ochre
Telephone weapon -> No weapon

Ochre, at least, had little time to consider how to deal with the White Moon and Knights that shortly popped into existence. Something sung by his ear, and as the lights flickered back into existence (therefore exacerbating his headache), he realized Harmony's true form. Youmafication maybe? Or did she snap back into the Rift while they slept? Ochre shuddered inwardly, uncertain of how he felt about that creature poised to eat his starseed during all that time…

He turned back toward their opposition, expecting that she would target them alone, but soon found himself under fire from the crystal shards. One cut through his uniform, and any objection at her for it solicited no real response. She continued to take herself apart, unheeding of the other Negaverse agent in the room. A lieutenant and eternal senshi stood little chance in controlling her here.

"Hey, can you not?" Ochre asked of her shortly. His hands flung out in a wide gesture.

How would you ******** like it? He stepped aside for another errant shard and threw the broken telephone at her with gusto.

DMG: 10